


Sunshine

by jeahwriting



Category: Olympics RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-25 18:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeahwriting/pseuds/jeahwriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Sometimes Michael wished he wasn’t like this.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunshine

  


Sometimes Michael wished he wasn’t like this.  He wished he didn’t over-analyze everything—rip things to bits and pieces to see them properly.  He wished he would just be.  And not think.  


  


Maybe that’s why he loved Ryan so much.  Because Ryan was everything he wasn’t.  Ryan was free and simple.  He was happy and everything sunshine.  Michael wished he could be more like him.  He wished he could take life in stride like Ryan did and trust himself completely and utterly like Ryan could.

  


Michael first met Ryan in Athens.

  


He was a strange boy.  He came into trials on a skateboard, curls flying back, floppy and unkempt.  He pulled up next to Michael and stared at the pool.

  


“So this is it, huh?”  The boy turned to Michael and flashed him a pearly white grin.  And, in that moment, Michael knew he was trouble.

  


Athens passed and not much happened.  Ryan was always there cheering him on, and Michael always noticed when Ryan thumped him on the back.  It was all innocent, but that didn’t stop Michael’s stomach from erupting in butterflies every time it happened. 

  


When he went down to the G-spot, Ryan was always waiting for him, with open arms and all sorts of crazy plans.  Mostly they just played Halo and wasted time at the beach.  Ryan got him to go out with him every other morning, at the break of dawn, to go surfing–because apparently the waves sucked at other normal times of the day.  Michael followed, half asleep and rubbing his eyes, down to the beach where Ryan, shouting and laughing, was already in the water.  Michael remembered wondering absently where Lochte got all this energy from. 

  


When Ryan came up to Ann Arbor to visit, Michael never knew what they were going to do.  He wasn’t going to lie—he wasn’t a very exciting person.  Not like Ryan was.  He didn’t have much of a life and he didn’t really know what to do with himself outside of the pool.  So whenever Ryan texted him that he’d be over soon, Michael always panicked a little, not sure if he’d be able to entertain Lochte.  He was always a little scared that Ryan would get bored up in Michigan.  Get bored with Michael. 

  


But, of course, Ryan never did.  He came, in a blaze of tan skin and sunshine, and completely turned Michael’s life upside down.  Michael found himself laughing more when Ryan was around.  He didn’t worry so much about the little things.  Ryan would come and they’d always find something to do—whether it was going out clubbing or playing pranks on his pissy-ass neighbor down the street.  They always found something to do, and Michael found himself loving who he became when Ryan was next to him.

  


In Beijing, nothing changed.  But yet, everything did.

  


After Michael’s 8th gold, he opened the door to his room to find Ryan there.  He had a weird look on his face.  He wasn’t laughing or smiling or making funny faces like he did after all of Michael’s other medals.  He was just kind of staring at Michael, liking he was seeing him for the first time.  His lips were uncharacteristically straight and Ryan was uncharacteristically quiet.

  


 “Ryan, what—”

  


“Michael don’t.”  Ryan stepped close, so that their lips were only inches apart.  “Just don’t—"

  


And then Ryan was kissing Michael.  Somehow it felt like his first, cause nothing else really compared.

  


Ryan told him later that he had always liked him.  He said that he liked Michael’s crooked teeth and the way his skin crinkled around his eyes when he smiled.  He liked how Michael always got a little shy and awkward in front of the cameras.  He liked how Michael wasn’t the loudest person ever, but when he was comfortable, there was no shutting him up.  He liked how Michael’s laugh boomed off the walls and made everyone feel like they belonged.

  


When Ryan had murmured those words under their covers in the Olympic Village, Michael felt like crying, because no one had ever said such beautiful things about him before.  Not his mom, or his sisters, or any of his previous girlfriends—girls that now paled in comparison to this blaze of sunshine in front of him.

  


Things didn’t really change.  They still did the same things.  They still went surfing and played Halo and played stupid pranks.  But now those things seemed to mean more.  Now, when Ryan woke Michael up to go surfing, he did so by running his hand through Michael’s hair and whispering in his ear.  When they were waiting for Michael’s grumpy neighbor to come out, Ryan turned to Michael with grin that made Michael’s heart catch in his throat.  When they played Halo, more often than not, the controllers were shoved aside and, instead, Ryan was curled up in Michael lap, kissing his breath away.

  


It was everything Michael had ever wanted, but sometimes, he couldn’t figure out what Ryan was doing with him.  Michael wasn’t sunshine.  He was quiet and introverted and sometimes his thoughts could carry him off to very dark places.  Ryan was so light—and people like that should not be with dark people like him.  People like that should be with other light people.

  


In London, Michael couldn’t believe that Ryan was still with him.  After all those years, he still couldn’t see what Ryan saw in him.

  


After Michael’s final relay, he stood on the platform.  He couldn’t really see anything because his eyes were filled to the brim with tears.  He sniffed loudly and smiled.  Suddenly this whole thing rained down on him.  He was at the Olympics.  He won golds.  He made swimming the sport it was today.

  


After the ceremony, he looked in the stands for Ryan, but he wasn’t there.  Michael felt a weird twisting in his gut—he could’ve sworn he saw the blue-eyed boy just a moment ago, jumping up and down and cheering at the top of his lungs. 

  


“Mom, have you seen Ryan?”  He reached up to her and kissed the side of her head.  His mom was crying, mascara running down her cheeks.  But she was smiling through the tears in a way that made Michael’s heart catch in his throat.  Debbie shook her head quickly and kissed him again on the forehead.

  


Michael went down the row and hugged his sisters and his friends and then he hopped down from the railing.  “I’ll catch up with you guys later,” he called over his shoulder to his family.  “I’m going to go find Ryan.”

  


He finally found Lochte in their hotel room.  He opened the door to find the room littered with petals, showered in candle lights.  Ryan was sitting there, on the bed, dimpled smile lighting up his face.  He looked up at Michael, pressing his lips together and watching him expectantly.  Soft Italian music played from somewhere in the room.

  


Michael laughed, deep and open, blinking through his tears—because it had been an emotional night and he couldn’t seem to stop crying no matter what he did. 

  


Ryan frowned.  “Hey, it’s not half bad,” he said, gesturing to the music trickling from the boombox near the door.  “You don’t want to listen to Lil Wayne when I’m proposing to you, do you?”

  


That stopped him.  “When you’re what?” 

  


A grin more beautiful than any Michael had ever seen lit up Ryan’s face.  He hopped off the bed effortlessly and stepped in front of Michael.  Kneeling on one knee, he pulled out a velvet red box.

  


“Michael Phelps.  You are such a clumsy idiot.  You fall over things all the time and you always forget what we have planned.  You never really remember our anniversary and you always give me the stupidest gifts when you do.”

  


Ryan paused and took a shuddering breath.  Looking closer, Michael noticed that he had tears in his eyes.

  


“But you’re also the sweetest guy ever.  I tell you this everyday, but I’m going to tell you again cause I don’t think you really believe it—and you should.  You are beautiful.  You’re hot and funny and even the stupidest things you do somehow turn out romantic.  I wish you could see how I see you.  It hurts me that you don’t notice how wonderful you are.”

  


Ryan took a deep breath and ran his sleeve across his eyes.  Michael looked down at this man in front of him and felt something squeeze his chest so hard that it almost hurt.  He knelt and wiped at Ryan’s tears, taking his hand and trying to hide the grin erupting on his face.  Ryan squeezed his hand and started laughing.

  


“Shit, man, I’m sorry.  I wanted to get through this without crying but—” He smiled and Michael saw sunshine.  “You mean the world to me.  I never knew it could be this good with someone, but it is and that’s fucking amazing.  I want to be with you.  I want to remind you everyday of everything you are—for the rest of my life.  So,”  Ryan opened the box and revealed a platinum ring with the small diamond in the middle.  “Michael Phelps, will you marry me?”

  
Looking back, Michael didn’t think he gave Ryan an actual answer.  He had just kind of tackled Lochte into a suffocating hug, kissing every part of him that his lips could meet.  They were crying and laughing and nothing could have been more beautiful.

  


That night, when they made love, Michael remembered thinking that he was happy. 

  


And really, isn’t that all that ever mattered?


End file.
